Summer of the Hypnotist
by Mr.Wind-Up Bird
Summary: If you have read Dandelion Wine, most of this would make sense. It's a fanfiction of it, I suppose... I had to write it for school. I was thinking of One Piece at the time, so there's a hypnotist. Doesn't matter if you haven't read the book.


**Summer of the Hypnotist**

With a vest of black, a dime of silver in the pocket of his vest, a hypnotist of the wandering variety wandered into the town of Green Town, in a state called Illinois. It was the season of Summer, the time when kids ruled like mini tyrants or perhaps, for better word, mini monarchs. The air was red and tasted like so, in the oddest sense of course, with laziness a main ingredient in the making of the Summer air. The hypnotist, a man of twenty with hair short and black while he himself was tall and fair skinned, did parlor tricks for enough money to eat and live. His real joy was in traveling, in learning how to experience life from his point of view. His thoughts were that to learn how he wanted to live with maximum happiness, in the shortest amount of time possible, the best way was to meet as many people and different points of view until he reached his conclusions on life. Otherwise he would realize his point of view while resting on the White Lady's lap, or be lynched and only realize that he hated the world from spite. Life's views need to be found carefully and quickly.

Coming with a quick sunrise from the east, the vest-wearing hypnotist waltzed into town. He looked around at the various buildings and shops lazily, looking for a place to stay during the invariably coming night. The hypnotist's stroll around the town took until the beginning of activities in the town called Green. Looking up and down the slowly heating up street, he saw a likely candidate for a place to stay. It was a boy of about twelve years old but who could've been older or younger, as the hypnotist was not an expert at guessing young boy's ages.

"Excuse me, little boy. I'm looking for a place to stay tonight. Do you know of any houses nearby lending rooms to travelers?" said the hypnotist.

The young boys name was Douglas Spaulding, and at the words of a traveler needing a room reaching his ears, his eyes lit up.

"Do I! Stay at my house, we have plenty of room and my grandma makes the bestest dinners ever and I don't know you at all but I think dad'll love you--!"

"Haha, thank you, you don't need to go on," the hypnotist cut the boy off. "So, were do you live?"

"Over there," said the boy pointing down the road. "I'll stay out on the porch this evening and call to you, Mr. …"

"You can call me Elliott. I'm a hypnotist."

And at these words, the boy's eyes lit up even more. "Oh boy, a hypnotist! That's so cool! I can't wait to tell everyone a hypnotist is boarding with us!"

"Then run on to your family and ask their permission if I can stay, will you…"

"Doug. Douglas Spaulding."

"Okay, Doug. Run on home. If you need to find me, look around this town of yours, I'll be around somewhere."

Doug was already trotting away, gasps of "Oh boy!" and other things an excited young boy would say trailing behind him on the current of a summer wind.

A silver dime with a single hole in it, the hole occupied with a string, was held aloft, pulled downward to the Earth by gravity but held firm by the string. First right and then left, it swung like a pendulum. The eyes of a young boy followed it, him only a little over ten, a friend of another boy a little over ten named Doug.

"Okay, on three, you will… What do you boys want me to make him do?" said the hypnotist to the crowd of young boys around him.

The boy's all yelled their suggestions. "Make him dance like a monkey!" "Turn him into a lion!" "Make him stand on his head!" The cry that won the day, however, was a simple one, and in all actuality it was a classic. "Make him fall asleep!"

"There we go, that's a nice easy one. Okay, let me remember the magic words… Okay, I'm going to count to three and then say 'Goodnight, goodnight'. Then, you'll fall asleep, right here in front of all your friends.

Ready? One… Two… Three… Goodnight, goodnight."

The boy was promptly out cold.

A roar erupted just as a volcano would, although cheers of delight were spewed forth instead of some molten rock. Elliott the hypnotist passed around a hat and was rewarded for his simple trick with $0.04.

"And now I need another volunteer…"

"Hmph (Eating sound) And of course, I find the dandelion an interesting plant too. I remember as a child that I thought the yellow dandelion I saw and the white little things that you blew into the wind were two different plants entirely! Luckily I never voiced that idea, I would have been laughed at. But I never knew you could make wine out of it," said the hypnotist

Douglas' Grandfather made himself bigger, to try to make himself seem more important.

" 'Course you can. I've done so for almost as long as I can remember. It captures the day of summer, right there. And when you drink it down in the winter, you can remember the days of Summer in all it's glory."

"Wow," said Elliott. "That sounds just wondrous. I wish I had something like that to remember my travels, just swig a drink down. Why, I wish I had a Horn of Plenty (Author's Note: Explain) of a liquid like that. Canteen of Plenty, I should say."

Everyone at attendance at the Spaulding dinner table let out a polite little laugh, like the nobles of 18th century Europe around an execution happy King. The food was now in the mouths of those at the table, being savored in their mouths until it was tasteless, a type of gum except better. They all listened to Elliott the hypnotist.

"Of course the Summer is wonderful, but I've found love in the Winter too. Being snowed into a building with a great song about love in your mind. A slow one, with one of those watercolor ink paintings from the Far East also in your mind. One of people in straw hats hiking in the snow, high up to their tiny winter cottage in the mountains. Makes me feel cozy. Like I could sleep a long while." Elliott's point of view on what should be remembered.

"Mr. Elliott, do you really need to leave?" whined Douglas. He would miss Elliott's parlor tricks greatly; he had grown quite fond of them.

"Afraid so. I've had fun entertaining your friends and your Grandma's cooking was excellent, but I must travel. I feel it's about time I did so," said Elliott the hypnotist. The sun was still high in the sky and warmed the Earth, the ground, raining down Summer sunlight. Elliott stood with Douglas on the sidewalk near the Spaulding's house. He held a traveling bag and looked ready to leave.

"I'll miss you so much… Will you come back sometime!" Douglas almost yelled the last sentence; his hopes were entirely pinned on the one idea. Elliott considered.

"I probably will. I want to taste your Grandmother's cooking again. Haha, and when I get back, I'll make your brother dance around the house like a monkey. I promise you that. Now, do you have a Trolley? I'm a little tired of walking."

"There used to be an amazing trolley here with the coolest conductor ever, Mr. Tridden. But now they're replacing everything with busses! Busses, can you believe it! Now I'll never be late for school again," said Douglas.

Elliott smiled. "School's important, son. It's a drag, I know, but it's important. Hmm… Never ridden a bus before. First time for everything. Goodbye, Douglas. See you again when I can't bear to live without your Grandma's cooking."

"Goodbye Mr. Elliott…" Douglas was quite depressed by this turn of events. It reminded him too much of when his best friend John Huff left town for good. Having it happen again was too much his twelve-year old heart to bear. He cried, and didn't care who saw. And thus, the wandering hypnotist became a wanderer once more. For now, it only seemed he was wandering into the Summer sun. Away from Green Town, Illinois.


End file.
